The Tubs – Hard Life | Album Review
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Merge Records
Owen Williams, frontman of Welsh jangle pop band The Tubs, is the crème de la crème of certified lover boys. He's the kind of moody, brooding bad boy you would see in a John Hughes film. We all know the type: long, slicked-back hair, well-dressed, and a penchant to be in their feelings. These are compelling character traits for someone who, in fact, wears his heart on his sleeve in his songs, constantly owning up to his mistakes and recognizing the endless cycles of his deteriorating relationships.
With each passing album, Williams is increasingly transparent with his feelings, willing to accept the blame for his own love life. What makes his writing stand out is his self-deprecation; Williams knows he’s a deeply flawed individual, accepts it, and isn't afraid to take the mick out of himself in his songs. The listener will find serious subject matter on these records, from his mother’s untimely death to picking up the pieces of your life in the aftermath and trying to find your place in the world. Still, the way Williams finds humor in all that life has to offer is gripping to listen to.
While the lyrics contain shades of grief, regret, shame, and disappointment all rolled into one, the music itself has the energy of a pint-chugging Friday night out at the pub. Alongside Williams is a full band of merry men backing him up, putting in full-time shifts at the office, headlined by Taylor Stewart on drums, Dan Lucas on guitar, and Max Warren on bass. Stewart is the rabble-rouser of the bunch; his kinetic drum fills and snare hits keep the tempo fast and energetic. It’s an engaging intermingling of moods, so when their record Cotton Crown came across my desk last year and reminded me of early-to-mid-80s R.E.M., the record was a shoo-in as one of my favorites of the year. As the band began touring America relentlessly, they found new momentum that helped them break into the mainstream, culminating in an article in the distinguished publication The New Yorker.
That brings us to this year with The Tubs’ third LP, Hard Life; the album is grander in scale, beefing up the guitar bits, drum hits, and everything in between. Where we last left off with Williams on Cotton Crown, he was a man broken, dealing with the tragedy of his mother’s death and lost relationships, seemingly at his wit’s end, trying to put the pieces of his life together. Now on Hard Life, our hero has found some peace from within the catastrophes of life. After working through grief, Williams made it out with building blocks for his journey, ready to assemble himself back again from scratch.
This is not to say Williams didn’t learn some lessons from nights of debauchery along the way. Take the song “Heaven or London,” for example. It's the heaviest song on the record both lyrically and musically, with Williams questioning if there is enough room in heaven. This is him at his lowest point: bar hopping nightly, peering into an empty bottle to numb himself from the pain of losing his mother and cope with societal rejection. Musically, the guitars rev up, becoming more gnarly and vicious the further the song goes along as Williams croons his pain away. The title track, “Hard Life,” is filled with so much dark bar jargon that would make Sam Malone’s stomach turn. It’s a high-energy romp through different characters’ POVs about the hard times that people fall on. Whether someone’s dad dies, your boss is on your back, or you have no heat in your flat, the moral of the story is “Well mate, everybody knows / Yeah it’s a hard life.”
Despite the dark undertones of Williams’ lyrics, he still keeps his sense of humor, flashing it at a moment’s notice like he’s George Costanza in a Seinfeld episode. “Do Yourself a Favor” drips with sass, sung from the perspective of being at your wit’s end with a lover. The chorus has attitude, and the vocal melodies will levitate in your mind. There’s an energy that persists, from the guitar tones to the synths, that reminds me of New Order, making for the best song on the record. A couple tracks later, “The Way It Goes” offers a love song with a Celtic twist and finds Williams in a Larry David-esque state of agitation at yet another Yank in America telling him they’re sober. On the closer, “As Long as You Leave,” Williams lends an ear to a friend to “whine about their scumbag dad” as long as they promise to leave his place afterward.
There’s a real, cutting honesty to all of this, whether the band is recounting a specific interpersonal conflict or observing a perplexing societal norm. I see both “If You Don’t Love Me” and “Stoop to Me” as companion pieces that show what real-world relationships and growth look like as we get older. The former finds Williams’ heart in tatters as he pleads for love from a partner. He’s paralyzed by love (or lack thereof), threatening to quit the Tubs or even, god forbid, read someone’s Substack if she doesn’t take him back. The latter is Tubs at their jangliest, with Williams realizing that his love interest won’t take him back, so he learns to turn the page: “But baby if I can’t change your mind / Baby I don’t want to spend my life / Waiting for the day you see / The day you stoop me.”
On “Now and Then,” Williams is at his moody, brooding best, singing about writing lyrics in the dark all because a girl who has a hold on him has spurned his “little Welsh heart.” The croons on the chorus are so melodic and infectious, and it’s a marvel how Williams's silent suffering can lead to pop songs that are simply irresistible.
On Hard Life, the Tubs have perfected their sound to the nines. How far they can push jangle pop is entirely up to them, because they’re at the forefront. Williams picked up the rubble of his life and came out of the wreckage a mentally stronger man. The Tubs turned the debris of pain into a bleary-eyed, nonstop rager of pop songs that are simply exquisite.
David is a content mercenary based in Chicago. He’s also a freelance writer specializing in music, movies, and culture. His hidden talents are his mid-range jump shot and the ability to always be able to tell when someone is uncomfortable at a party. You can find him scrolling away on Instagram @davidmwill89, Twitter @Cobretti24, or Medium @davidmwms.
